The Prince and The Princess
by PLLHalebSpoby
Summary: For the AU Spoby Week. Spencer is a princess, a title she despises. That is until her country holds a dance to match all of the eligible maidens with their princes. When she meets the young Tobias Cavanaugh, her heart is stolen immediately and irrevocably.


Her official title was princess-she despised it. It _reeked _of prestige, of honor, of loyalty. Her life was a modern day movie, except everything was real. There were no second takes, no scripts to be read.

Living inside those castles walls, was a hundred percent real.

So was the isolation she felt-after all, anyone could try and take advantage of her, and we couldn't have that. The castle was far safer for the beloved princess, daughter of the King and Queen.

"Beloved," she said with a scoff, as she flipped to a new page in her journal, one of hundreds that she had collected over the years.

While she understood the need for security and protection, the constant presence of bodyguards and night guards, was beginning to wear on her.

It was a wonder she even had privacy to pee!

Her parents employed these people, as well as a tutor (since she couldn't attend a normal school setting), cook, (for her carefully structured meals), handmaid, and driver.

They couldn't be bothered to do any of these things, so they paid others to show her the kind of affection _they _should have been showing her.

She was used to it.

Things had never been _quite _the same after her sister, Melissa, had died while swimming in the lake inside their summer cottage. Their entire kingdom had mourned her passing, while virtually ignoring the person who had found her in the first place.

"Good morning, princess," her governess said.

"Good morning," Spencer recited politely, like she had been taught.

Being taught impeccable manners, how to set a table and how to properly greet foreign visitors, had been left to her nanny, a stern but kindhearted woman that she had known since she was born.

"It's time to get dressed. Today you meet your suitors."

Of course.

Each year, her kingdom held a celebration-all of the eligible men and women of esteemed royalty, were encouraged to mingle with their future spouse.

Her time had finally come. At sixteen, she had been deemed old enough to begin courting a young man. The choice wasn't _entirely _hers, though.

Her parents held the final say over whether or not they could become a couple, much less marry, and it had to be someone from one of the family's her parents had good relations with.

Bending over, she allowed her governess to put her corset on. It was always an exhausting chore-one that she absolutely dreaded each and every morning of the world.

"There-" she panted, keeping her eyes centered on the ground, as she sucked in a breath. "Has to be a better way to do this."

"I'm sorry, princess."

With one final tug, her corset was firmly on, and her airway supply blocked off, as she struggled to adjust to the limited breathing space she had. It always made her feel slightly dizzy.

"Where are mother and father?" she asked, taking a seat as her hair and makeup was intricately done.

"In the main hall, preparing to greet your guests."

The castle held many passages, and rooms. If she hadn't learned to navigate through the maze of halls and rooms, she might have gotten lost, but she made it down to the main hall in a matter of minutes.

Her mother and father were engaged in conversation with their head of security when she arrived, no doubt debating the next radical security precaution her father wanted installed.

"Spencer, good you're here," her father said. "They will be arriving at any moment."

Spencer nodded obediently, though secretly she didn't hold out much hope that a suitor would catch her eye. None of the men were visually appealing, and none of them particularly paid her any attention, all of them had preferred her sister.

"Stand up straight," her mother hissed.

Never a compliment, never praise for anything, only corrections and criticism. With a resigned sigh, Spencer carefully straightened her shoulders and posture until they were ramrod perfect.

"And put a smile on your face," her father added, as the first carriages appeared. "You look like you're at a funeral, darling."

Plastering her best princess-worthy smile on her face, Spencer fixated her gaze directly at the incoming guests so she wouldn't have to look at her parents any more than necessary. They were always strict perfectionists, but their compunctions about it grew even worse in the face of meeting new and old friends.

"Peter," Duke Daniel Cavanaugh said, "it's a pleasure to see you again."

_Gag, _Spencer thought, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at the phony exchange.

"Daniel, it is so very good to see you. Who have you brought with you today?"

"My boy, Toby."

That perked her interest-she had never met Toby before. Their family's had mingled over the years, but somehow their paths had never intersected before.

She turned her attention to the boy that was now being helped out of the carriage. He was handsome in an untraditional sort of a way. His short, dark brown hair, glistening in the searing sun, as he turned a megawatt smile on her and her family.

"Miss Spencer Hastings, meet my son, Tobias Cavanaugh."

Smiling, her top lip getting caught in her teeth, she took his hand, a formality she had practiced her entire life, and was momentarily struck by how inviting it was, how warm his reassuring grasp was.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Cavanaugh."

He offered her a private smile, one that made her stomach do weird flip-flops. "Call me Toby, Princess."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she regained her nerve as she offered him a sassy smile. "I'm afraid I can only do that, sir, if you call me by my proper first name."

"It looks like we have a deal, _Spencer_."

* * *

It was customary for all potential matches to partake in a dance with the other couples. It was a deeply formal waltz, one that Spencer had been taught, of course, and one that she particularly liked.

It wasn't always this nice, though-but Toby proved to be a natural dancer as he effortlessly guided her across the floor, his steps as featherlight as his touch.

"You're good at this," she whispered in his ear.

"You're a _marvelous _dancer, Spencer," he whispered back.

Feeling her heart swell to twice its normal size, she focused on her steps as the dance came to an end. The dance had been mundane, something she had memorized long ago, but her partner had been so different, so unlike anyone she had ever shared the pleasure with before.

It maximized the experience tenfold.

"I enjoyed spending time with you today, Spencer," Toby said, giving her a short bow.

"I did, as well," Spencer replied.

"I was hoping to ask your father for permission to," he cleared his throat, "court you."

Even though it was unladylike to laugh outrageously, she couldn't help it when he used those highly sophisticated words like that.

"Sorry," she said, her cheeks flushing. "Yes, of course you can ask my father for his permission."

"I won't rest until I find him."


End file.
